


I Want To Feel Alive

by leiavltrsn



Series: Speaking of Nirvana [1]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiavltrsn/pseuds/leiavltrsn
Summary: Isak and Even talk about the universe, discover new theories and maybe fall in love with each other along the way."Sprawled on the cold greasy tiles of the bathroom floor Isak and Even have been exchanging a clumsily rolled joint back and forth, their fingers brushing constantly but eliciting no reaction from either of them whatsoever as their bodies were stuck in the haze of a pseudo-nirvana. "





	1. If I go, I'm Going

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cuteandtwisted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteandtwisted/gifts).



> hey there! this is the first evak fic i've ever written and i really hope it's enjoyable to at least some of you! English isn't my first language and i, therefore, desperately need your feedback  
> skam mended my soul and i feel like i've grown so much through it and especially thanks to the writers, stans and artists i've met on here  
> special thanks to @cuteandtwisted who rekindled my love for writing by sharing such insightful (and bordering art) works about Isak and Even with whom i've laughed, cried, hurt and healed. NLMLY made me finally fill in my empty notebooks and do something with all the ideas and univeses i've pictured for these two boys  
> enjoy your read! xoxo

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Thinking about You**

Frank Ocean

  
_“A tornado flew around my room_  
_Before you came around”_

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_**Now 10/17** _

 

Sprawled on the cold greasy tiles of the bathroom floor Isak and Even have been exchanging a clumsily rolled joint back and forth, their fingers brushing constantly but eliciting no reaction from either of them whatsoever as their bodies were stuck in the haze of a pseudo-nirvana.

 

This occurrence has turned into a routine every Thursday night ever since Even moved in with him. They bonded over weed and opposite interests that always seemed to spark enticing conversations between the two boys. But however accustomed to it Isak may have said he had become, he never actually used to spend time with his eyes plastered to the ceiling and letting his thoughts flow, his ideas springing into explosions with every hit he took. Isak never used to let go before Even came around. It was simply not allowed to let his composure slip and grant his foggy brain the freedom to be transparent and hazy. _Focus, focus, focus._ It was like a mantra he liked to chant whenever he felt like he wasn’t in control of the emotions going on in the confines of his head. And however much he wanted to breathe out all the stress he had been bottling up for so long, he would have never decided to lead such a free life without Even’s persistence. So, yeah, their friendship is a quite liberating one.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Then 08/17_ **

 

“Oh, come on, baby gay, don’t you think I could maybe convince you to spend your first year of college here? Who am I going to clean up after if you leave?” said Eskild with watery eyes.

 

The older man had never liked to let on too much about his feelings as for the past years three years Eskild has been the main father figure in Isak’s life despite him claiming he absolutely does not need one. And however grumpy and snippy Isak may have been towards the older man, he always carried this look of gratitude in his eyes whenever Eskild happened to be brought up during conversations or crossed his mind.

 

So, after three years spent in the lovely company of various roommates, Isak’s parents finally came through and started showing signs of remorse for not offering their son the family he deserved. They decided to give Isak the chance to move out on his own somewhere closer to uni and start this new journey in a fresh environment. On hearing this offer from his father Isak thought that this might be his chance to grow out of his laziness and get a proper grasp of what adulting means. What he had not foreseen, however, was the hardship moving out actually was. He hated to see Eskild hurt and he felt wary knowing he will be leaving his old life behind in order to start a new chapter which was supposed to make him a brand new mature and sensible Isak – in short, he wasn’t ready.

 

“Don’t worry, Eskild, you can still come to my apartment and help with the cleaning.” said Isak winking teasingly very obviously trying to conceal his apprehension.

 

“You bet I will! What would you be doing without me, Isak, seriously?” retorted Eskild grabbing the last box of books left in the now empty room. It was funny how little things he actually owned - what with not having had the chance to take his belongings from his parents’ house. It was a memory he let himself on only rare occasions dwell on as they only rekindled the heartache that came along with having to move out of his home at the young age of sixteen because his mom was, most of the time, too out of it to remember that she had a teenage boy growing up by her side and his father, who was too self-centered and cruel to give a damn about his fragile son. He can’t not remember the days he stayed hidden in the basement of the Kollektiv because he simply couldn’t stand his family one more night and how for two weeks his parents hadn’t even reached out to him. That’s why he was moving out – to get over the hurt he’d been through and start his uni life with a clean slate with no childhood trauma to follow him around. He wasn’t letting the pain define him. He wasn’t letting it weigh too heavy on his shoulders. He reset his perspective as to fit the life of a normal, happy, young college kid.

 

Taking the last box, the two boys headed downstairs to the van where Even was waiting for them patiently. _Even._

 

*

 

He met Even on the first day of his second year at Nissen when Isak was too hungover to register the new students roaming around him. Little did he know that the lanky tall blonde who had transferred from a different school in his last year was definitely something completely not ever seen before in Isak’s life.

 

He was hanging out with Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi in the far corner of the courtyard trying to avoid human contact as much as possible. It was Monday after all. So in his morose haze he let himself frown at the ground for no particular reason when suddenly Jonas elbows him to snap out of it. It is when he lifts his head with a grouchy comeback on the tip of his tongue that he sees Even all radiant and jolly introducing himself to each of the boys grinning widely even at Isak, despite his deep frown. It still baffles him how he can have this glow about him every time he meets someone new.

 

“We have Norwegian together.”, explains Jonas as to make Isak understand why such a cool guy would come hang out with them out of the blue.

 

“Dude, you’re a third-year!” cheers Magnus “that means you can get us in all those crazy parties. Handy friend we’ve got right here!”

 

“Mags, would you chill? That doesn’t mean you’ll be getting laid, you know that, right?” mocks Isak, that being the first coherent phrase he’s said all day. Surprisingly, despite being a mean comment, it punches a laugh out of Even who sounded way too pleased with the banter unfolding before his eyes.

 

Slowly the drowsiness Isak started his day with was fading away and he even managed to crack a smile or two at the dorky jokes Even started telling, his migraine easing down almost completely. In no time the banter and teasing between the boys began to resemble a foreseeable friendship leaving a feeling of accomplishment low in Isak’s gut. That’s how Even gradually became a regular presence in all their pregames, Fifa games, kebab hangouts and lunch breaks never changing the light-hearted attitude he emanated to those around him. They quickly became a close-knit group of friends, the new addition being barely noticeable as he molded easily around the interests and preferences of the other boys as to give the impression they had always been like this: _Jonas, Magnus, Mahdi, Isak and Even._

 

 

*

 

If someone were to ask Isak why he had decided to take Even in as his roommate, he most certainly couldn’t come up with a coherent answer. Everybody and their dog knew that there was something odd about their friendship because since the very beginning the tension between them was almost palpable leaving no unanswered questions when it came to the reason why the air thickened whenever they happened to be in the same room.

 

Isak may have harbored at some point in the span of their newfound friendship a tiny _tiny_ harmless crush on the other boy, but he won’t ever come through and actually admit to it. Because, as one would expect, Isak hasn’t had the best experiences with telling the truth and simply being frank about his thoughts and feelings.

 

It was like a defense mechanism for him since as long as he didn’t share much of his inner turmoil with those who surrounded him he couldn’t ever end up hurt. At least that’s what he told himself was motivational enough in order to keep this neat façade of _i’m-so-tough-nothing-hurts-me_ that got him through social interactions. He couldn’t lie to himself, though. That was another level of performance he couldn’t even dream of achieving. So, in his seemingly non-existent soul, Isak knew that what he went through with Jonas could never be repeated. He couldn’t go through that much heartache and disappointment and repressed feelings once again. Well, things weren’t even the least comparable since back then he was only a closeted 16-year-old teenage boy with a hopeless crush on his best friend, and a very straight best friend at that. Now, however, he was sure of his attraction to boys and finally allowed himself to indulge in it without being guilt-ridden when he caught himself admiring a boy’s beautifully sculpted face. He was proud and a bit self-assured and maybe even cocky about his attitude towards men. But the hurt still haunted the back of his mind, because he fell in love with his best friend, who did nothing but support and encourage him to be more open and light-hearted, who only brought out the best in him, but simultaneously looked at girls with long auburn hair like they held the secrets of the universe. He could have never directed such a glance towards Isak who was nothing compared to those delicate and soft girls Jonas went after. So he repressed his feelings, made a few reproachable mistakes, apologized and refused to spare Jonas’ features admiring glances ever again. And soon it was like before, they were best bros who had each other’s backs. And not much later Isak came forward telling the guys he was _a little gay_ and went on with their banter as if nothing had happened.

 

 

So, no, Isak won’t admit to the giddy churning he gets whenever Even laughs that cheerful laugh of his and instead calls him _dude_ and _bro_ as to get a grip and not let himself fall in the vicious circle of pining for a guy who might as well be as straight as they come. _As long as he suspects nothing, there's no harm done._

 

Consequently, when Isak announced that he was looking for a cohabitant for his two-bedroom apartment on the groupchat he had with the other four boys, and Even expressed his interest right away, he couldn’t find it in himself to turn him down. Not that he had ever intended to. He merely knew that in the course of the next few months he’d have to make a considerable effort not to be caught drooling after his friend. _No problem, been there, done that._

 

*

 

”I guess this is farewell, then.” mumbled Eskild after waving at Even through the rear window of the van.

 

“Ugh. Don’t be so fucking dramatic! You know we’ll be having our weekly movie nights so you won’t even notice I don’t live here anymore. And it’s not like I’m moving to the other side of the world. I’m like at a tram ride away. You’ll be fine!”said Isak, desperately trying to mend the heavy atmosphere, while truthfully tearing up.

 

“Yeah, yeah, leave me be. I’m allowed to get emotional.”

 

“Of course you are. Thank you, Eskild, for everything, really.” said Isak finally giving in and enveloping Eskild in a bone-crushing hug knowing that this is truly goodbye.

 

“Off you go, baby gay! Call me if you need anything!”

 

*

 

That’s how two weeks later he’s all settled in his new flat with his new roommate and hopefully a new life waiting for him outside his door.  
He could absolutely not deny it; they got along amazingly well moving with ease around each other, their friendship having laid the groundwork for their compatibility as roommates in this new living arrangement.

 

The thing about Even was that he was an always very chill guy who reveled in everything being taken light-heartedly similar to Jonas in regards to behavior; _and okay maybe he did have a personal preference._ But Even couldn’t only be put in one box like that, it felt wrong and even offensive to categorize him like so. Even in himself is distinct. His interests are peculiar, his sense of style is completely out of the ordinary and just eclectic, his speech and lingo are both very particular, oftentimes using slang and memes references from a decade ago, his perspective on life was more often than not quite gloomy, but it still made him stand out. His twistedness and leaning towards having a forever different stance on things were the things that made Even such a remarkable person, it wasn’t about his looks, not in the least, but it was rather about the glimmer in his eyes whenever he talked about a sensitive subject or a train of thought he truly believed in. So, that blinding smile and raised eyebrows were backed by an intricate universe which was housed inside his spectacular mind. That’s why whenever someone held his stare long enough they could most likely get lost in the dark blue waves of mischief, wittiness and passion in his eyes. Even was a mystery to understand and that’s why he attracted so many people around him like bees would gather around a flourishing flower. Isak decided that is a good enough metaphor to fit what _Even Bech Naesheim_ encompasses.

  
He could ramble for hours on end about the movies he was working on or about his evergreen love for romanticism or about the sketchy arthouse-like café he came across during one of his trips to the city centre or about loneliness and the darkness of a distorted mind or about bliss. And that’s where it clicked. If it weren’t for Isak being so mesmerized with the complexity of the outer space, they might have not got along so well. Hell, Isak might have as well not looked at him so inquiringly hadn’t he been so satisfying to watch talking about Isak’s most preferred interest.

 

It wasn’t even the fact that it was Even who talked about the universe with so much intent, it was rather about the interest a random person showed towards a topic so difficult to grasp. Isak got off to people who were genuinely preoccupied with questions both so scientific and philosophical. _And okay if they happened to look like a runway model Isak couldn’t exactly be upset about it._

 

*

  
Isak is _the_ science nerd, _everyone_ knows that. What they don’t know, though, is that for Isak science is a way to gauge the course of action he should take next, what he could be doing if a certain turn of events were to occur to him. So, no one really knew that Isak read books he has lost count of about the way the human species impacted the universe and about what happens beyond the bubble people have created for themselves here on Earth and how the explosions in the cosmic void could be paralleled even on solid ground if you were to concentrate long enough.

 

 _Nearly 14 billion years ago, there was nothing and nowhere. Then, due to a random fluctuation in a completely empty void, a universe exploded into existence._ This is by far the subject that has hallmarked Isak’s childhood and teenage years the most. How can it be that it took one unprompted spark to kindle an explosion which gave birth to a fully functioning ethereal world? How can it be that something so little and insignificant made it possible for stars to be sprawled on a pitch black widescreen and tiny independent worlds to be created in the midst of countless dots, stars and hollows?

 

It does not come as surprise that Isak has a natural attraction to discovering the mysteries of the unknown. As he was growing up there was so much he didn’t know about himself, about his mom, about his friends, about the reasons why some people get shitty families and others get a chance at happiness, he didn’t know what a choice really meant. So, him being passionate and by default enticed by the outer space, is merely the suspected consequence of leading a lifestyle full of doubt. And for him the thing that made the close observation of the universe so alluring was the variety of theories and opinions, the endless clashes of scientists in regards to what is right and what is wrong, the wide beach of possibilities of what could possibly be going on _out there_. _Out there_ , ironic how not long ago out of the closet meant “out there” for Isak. But _out there_ _out there_ could mean a gazillion of things. For all he knows, it could mean that the universe as people have come to know it, is a purely digital projection of a vast computerized system which makes everything move flawlessly without us humans realizing we are being directed by a machine. Or it could mean that the universe has no seams and no borders and that it can expand infinitely without being able to tell if it does have a limit or if it is simply the inferior vision of humans who cannot possibly see that far, like looking at the line of the horizon and thinking it ends where your eyes start seeing blurry. Or it could mean that the universe exists in a continuous eternal inflation where it expands and explodes and implodes and deflates and bursts out again an infinity of times creating new worlds, new realities without a predictable end. Or it could mean nothing at all. There may be nothingness out there and still no one could tell for sure.

 

Thinking about the universe was Isak’s haven with no deadline, no one pestering him to believe one or another scientist, nothing blocking his open perspective to self-created theories. It was his safe place to dream about the unknown while not knowing what he doesn’t know. It was secure.

 

* * *

 

**Half Asleep**

  
Low Roar

  
_"I woke_  
_Half asleep_  
_Pitch dark_  
_Pitch dark"_

 

* * *

 

 

_**Now 10/17** _

 

“Do you ever think about the universe?” asked Isak without being able to contain expressing his commotion of thoughts streaming through his mind out loud.

  
“Hm? About space?” inquired Even looking as though he had been woken from a dream, being stuck in the REM phase where he didn’t quite register his surroundings. _Could have been due to the pot._

  
“Yeah. There isn’t a day that passes without this topic finding itself at very front of my mind.” explained Isak. He had a grim look on his face as if he was afraid he had disclosed to much about him. _What kind of freak randomly thinks about astronomy and cosmological models in their spare time? And what kind of dumb person asks other people about it?_

  
“Well, yeah, absolutely. But I haven’t really researched multiple theories to be able to tell which one fits the way I think about the universe. It’s just that I know it’s bigger than us and more powerful at that.” retorted quite coherently Even

 

  
“Wow, Even. So eloquent.” teased Isak.

 

  
“Why don’t you tell me about those theories then, you smartass?” said Even expecting his question to punch a scoff out of Isak and was, therefore, baffled to see the other boy literally glowing on the prospect of rambling about his favorite topic.

  
“Okay” , he started, “ so there are several theories which are supposed to contradict or further develop the Big Bang Theory, which is the most well-known and generally accepted by all scientists. But I often feel like it’s not enough, y’know? I feel like just being told since kindergarten that our world was created by a strange unpredicted clash of atoms is hardly an explanation. So, like, I know that’s the core of astronomy as we know it and I completely acknowledge it. I’m not like those dumbasses who still think they can convince well-versed people that God made the universe or some shit. But I think simply believing that there was a clash and thus, our world was born and soon there were occurring all these anthropogenic changes limits you somehow. So, my theory, which I’ve put quite a bit of thought into, is that all the variations of the theory of the creation of the universe are valid but they simply have a particular succession. Like, for example, first there’s the Big Bang, right? So then maybe after a few million of years somewhere in this congestion of stars and planets another massive explosion occurs and so another universe similar to the first one is created, but it could function with completely different physical laws. And then, maybe, this cycle kept on repeating on and on and on and so, maybe, there is actually a cyclic cosmological model of the universe. Like, these multiverses are created in the confines of two different limits of the initial universe, but at the same time, the universe could be infinite and then, this oscillation would occur endlessly without ever needing to stop and, consequently, creating an algorithm of universe birth, which means the universe would be immortal.” rambled Isak without stopping once to breathe in.

 

“Wow. I feel so bad right now for only looking at the universe from a philosophical perspective. This is so much more complicated. How did you learn all this?” asked Even looking angelic, where he laid on the bathroom floor with his head propped up on his hand.

 

“Not being able to sleep has its perks, you know.” said Isak light-heartedly because he hadn’t scared Even off with his freakishly complex theories about the universe.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I want to know how to talk about this stuff so eloquently and confidently as you, though. Maybe you can take me to the planetarium one day and do astronomy 101 for dummies with me.” suggested Even. Isak blushed under his attention because he never spoke to him so bluntly about doing things together. But he knew better than to dwell on it. _Too much jay for you, Even._

 

“We’ll see. Now I think I’m going to bed, however. I have an 8am lecture tomorrow.” groaned Isak standing up from where he lay half asleep on the cold tiles.

 

Heading towards his room Isak couldn’t help but think that he had already got accustomed to his new life. He wasn’t sure if the happiness churning low in his stomach was thanks to his newfound independence and living arrangement or the company he was sharing his experiences with. Fortunately, the reminiscent buzz of the weed sent him directly to a deep sleep. Finally managing to fall asleep in his bed for the first time in a long while.


	2. Let Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak is pining.  
> Featuring a trip, a lot of science talk, Even being kind and beautiful and heartache. A lot of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo  
> well i have no excuse  
> please accept this 8.9k chapter as a peace offering  
> this is quite angsty i'm sorry  
> it's 5am here so i haven't proof-read it i'll go back on it tomorrow  
> enjoy your read xoxo

 

* * *

 

 

**Love, Lay Me Blind**

The White Birch

_“_ _How can I sleep_  
While aching for a pictured beauty  
Of hearts poured  
Upon the sea?  
Like floating stones  
Dressed in dreams  
I once wore”

* * *

 

_Seventy-two, seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy five. Inhale. Exhale._

Isak has always hated nights, especially those when he had to lull himself to sleep by counting sheep, working out before going to bed, taking a warm shower, wearing warm socks, drinking herbal _gross_ tea. He hated that he had to do this every single night because his brain simply wouldn’t for the life of it shut up. It was as if he had a ritual of sorts meant to trick his body into falling into a very much desired slumber, because apparently his body made the decision for him and chose to tire Isak a bit more just for the sake of it.

 

This usually ended up being catastrophic for the boy because he was grouchy and always a bit apprehensive by default, but running on 4 hours of sleep in the past 4 days accentuated the bags under his eyes and made him slump over while losing his temper whenever someone dared speak louder or simply talk to him in general. He was a mess without sleep and it terrified him to know that he had no control over his mind and body, having to submit to this cruel type of torture. It was as if he didn’t own his body anymore. It was someone else pulling the strings in his brain that kept on pumping thoughts, ideas and concern into his sleep deprived mind.

 

This, however, was not an unusual occurrence for him as he had been struggling with insomnia for as long as he can remember. Some days were good, when he managed to get about 5 hours of sleep and others were, of course, bad and tiring when he hardly got 3 hours of sleep. Tonight, though, was mortifyingly bad.

 

He got up at 7 am with the same exhausted heaviness stinging his eyes to the point where he thought he was crying. He went on to get ready for the day only mumbling a greeting to Even in recognition. Finally, he packed his bag and left with a confused and careful Even in tow to his lectures. He could tell Even was concerned and confused because it was the first time he’d seen Isak so drained of energy. But he had the courtesy not to push the subject and simply let the silence between them not turn awkward. He had a day full of lectures starting at 8.30 am and ending late in the evening.

 

It was moments like these Isak hated that he was such a nerd and had to have chosen such a demanding and challenging degree because now, at 4 in the afternoon, he had to appease his cell biology professor with thoroughly thought answers when all he wanted was a moment of silence to heal his killer migraine and maybe doze off for a bit. So by the time he got home he was a barely functioning corpse with no energy whatsoever to entertain any conversations with anyone. And when at 2am he was still lying in bed wide awake with his eyes plastered to the brownish stain on the ceiling he felt the imminent breakdown pressing at the back of his head.

 

It stung and it hurt and it made him cry with exhaustion. He couldn’t stand to be awake one more minute because with every breath that very slowly filled his lungs he felt like he was getting a step closer to death. He was a bit dramatic but the insomnia always made him exacerbate the situation he found himself in.

 

When he understood that there was no way he was getting any sleep that night, he decided to just roll with it. _Might as well._ So with the last ounce of energy he found in the soles of his feet he sat up and headed towards the windowsill where he had put a cushion and ashtray for such occasions. He settled with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him and let himself relax against the cold window. With the coolness outside tickling his cheek he gave his mind free scope to better analyze what he had been thinking.

 

Glancing outside he notices how starry the sky is, how the blackness of the sky is incredibly glowing with tiny lit-up dots scattered across the dark blanket hanging heavily above a sleepless city. It’s funny how everything takes him back to the universe, to its constellations and galaxies, to the trillions of stars, to the void behind all these beautiful burning lights. It’s something magnetic that always pulls him towards the might of space, to the complexity and very logical nature of the universe. And looking at the stars shining like minuscule sunrises he can’t help but indulge in all the facts and data he has on their importance.

 

He thinks how everyone admires and cherishes the stars as if they were put there to symbolize hope and light, oftentimes being so romanticized that they equate to a long lost lover, that’s how much people value the stars and their constant presence in the midst of a dark abyss. Painters have got lost in worshipping the beauty of the stars dissociating from their minds when they looked at the mesmerizing ceiling hovering with so many possibilities and tiny illuminated dreams.

 

That’s what artists wanted to achieve by worshipping them - the fulfillment of a dream so stellar it can’t be conceptualized in other way than through a cosmic representation. But how can something so beautiful and enchanting be born out of collapse?

 

A birth of a star means the literal gravitational collapse of nebulas, which can no longer hold the matter they house inside their confines. It means being so full that these interstellar clouds burst at the seams with gas and dust and with the elements of creation. Dark apocalyptic regions of dense matter give birth to the object of artistic gratification. A star is born from the blackness of an endless pit, which later on sparkle so bright and blinding that they resemble the work of Gods. So how is it that cosmic collapse and destruction result in such magnificent expressions of beauty while down on Earth collapse and destruction are viewed as the root-cause of everything evil?

 

How come people would look up towards the incomprehensible immensity of the sky and eulogize the product of a perishing cloud while considering human collapse an aberration and deeming it as worth of hate? How come humans would cherish the unknown on any given day while still discarding the people around them as if they are nothing but a miscalculation of sorts?

 

Baffled as he may be, Isak would always trade his home and comfort for the secret of what lies behind the black undecipherable widescreen. The daybreak interrupts his train of thought reminding him of why he had to have such unclear thoughts at the start of a new day. However, looking once again at the pale blue sky he thought that maybe he’ll manage to make it through another day if he got to gaze at the constellations in the irises of his very own collapse of matter.

 

_Now all he had to do was wait for Even to wake up._

 

 

*

 

Two weeks pass and Isak finally manages to sleep with the help of too much warm honey milk and two pills of Trazodone every night. His body was numb, _sure_ , he couldn’t eat anything for fear he might throw it all up the moment the food reached his stomach, _okay,_ he was drowsy, _alright,_ he could barely hold onto one single thought and make out its finality, _completely correct,_ but at least. At least: The thoughts stopped buzzing in his head and his body felt like it got the rest he had missed since he was little. Things were starting to look up if he said so himself. There was nothing Isak couldn’t get through, and especially when it was just his _stupid_ brain playing games on him.

 

 

 

“Wakey, wakey!” shouts Even as soon as he was entering Isak’s room with a wide grin spread on his face. He really doesn't get how Even can be so jolly in the morning, doing everything at a normal pace and not looking like he was maneuvered _(like Isak)_ . Mornings were designed for being grumpy and upset at the world for being so loud and alive around him at ungodly hours. He concluded that morning people are not regular Homo sapiens but rather some mutant alteration of the species.

 

“Ugh” groans Isak clearly not very enthralled by his roommate’s enthusiasm, “What, Even? It’s too early to be alive.” he continues while hiding his head under the cozy and warm duvet draped around his lanky body.

 

When he doesn’t get any sort of response to his dismissive line, Isak peeks his head from under his very inventive nest to see if Even was still in the room. What he saw next made him both feel embarrassed and his heart fill with a mushy feeling of happiness spreading all over his body. Even was bent over picking up a few textbooks and notebooks scattered all over Isak’s floor. And when he looked around his room for the first time in a few days he was disgusted at the sight knowing that he was indeed a messy smelly teenage boy. Noticing that Even’s smile faded away he suddenly felt a pang of guilt in his gut because he felt like he was a disappointment.

 

No one owed him anything. His parents didn’t spare him the time of the day and Eskild didn’t have to make Isak feel better for having a crappy family situation, he didn’t have to play the dad in the story and he sure as hell didn’t have to clean up after him like he did so many times in the past years. And now, Even _most definitely_ owed Isak nothing and shouldn’t have to clean up after his gross teenage self or even _worse_ be Isak’s caretaker because he couldn’t find it in himself to be responsible for once.

 

“Even, I’ll get those. You don’t have to clean my room just because I’m lazy. I promise I’ll tidy.” tried Isak to compensate the all of a sudden very heavy and unenthusiastic atmosphere.

 

“I know I don’t have to. I just want to do something nice for you.” Says Even continuing to astound Isak with everything he does for him. Picking one last item from the floor, Even frowns at a small yellow pill container. “Isak are you okay? Have you been ill?”

 

In that moment Isak wanted to thank the universe for Even’s lack of knowledge on sleeping medication because he didn’t know how to explain to the one person that made him happy that he was a mentally unstable fuck who couldn’t fall asleep without popping two pills every single night.

 

 

“Yeah, I think I had the flu or something. I’m okay now.” Lies Isak, already so accustomed to plastering a fake smile of assurance on his face and blurting out the first white lie that comes up to him.

 

“Okay. Well, it’s Saturday and I think we should go back to our tradition to have breakfast together. Go wash up and I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.” suggests Even, bless his soul for always knowing that a bit of his company and attention would immediately cheer Isak up, and went out of the door with a pile of dirty clothes in his arms.

 

Even’s concern sparked something in Isak that made him want to be a decent guy and have a nice shower to make himself look at least a bit more presentable. He couldn’t help but smile at his reflection in the mirror when he thought that Even really appreciated their Saturday _roommate bonding time_.

 

Right after they had moved in together and saw that their schedule had become more and more congested with little to no time for spending time together at home whatsoever, they decided to assign a day to staying in and binge watching whatever was on TV. But with Isak’s unexpected breakdown following a very depressing period of time when he hardly ever did anything except for going to his main classes, he thought that Even would have forgotten about their little arrangement deeming Isak as rude and a downright asshole. Fortunately, Even has always had faith in people and thankfully decided to be the adult in this situation.

 

Freshly washed and smelling of a musky body wash he headed towards the kitchen almost skipping when the appetizing scent of Even’s popular sour cream eggs recipe hit his nostrils.

 

 

When he entered the kitchen two plates with pale blue lining around the edges were laying on a neatly set table with small bowl of fruit in the center and two steaming hot cups of coffee placed in front of the plates. If he didn’t know better, Isak would have thought Even actually woke up earlier to prepare this in advance so that what was left was only to fill the aesthetically pleasing plates with the tasty food Even had prepared. 

 

_Even._ Who was leaning nervously with his back propped against the counter diverting his eyes from Isak to the stove. Everything looked so domestic and immediately made Isak’s heart leap in his chest with gratefulness and admiration for the older boy.

 

A sizzling woke Isak from his stupor and Even was placing the eggs in the plates with the dexterity and skillful artistic measure of a chef. _Was there anything Even couldn’t do?_

 

As he took the first bite he felt Even’s stare bore holes into him. He didn’t understand what was happening to him because suddenly he could feel every ounce of attention and focus Even had in him was directed at him. He blushed bright red under his scrutiny but immediately felt guilty and ashamed for basking in that little from the other boy. _Maybe I’ve got something on my face._

 

“Mm.” Isak moans before he can compose himself making a very inappropriate sound for the given situation, “it’s so good. I forgot how tasty these were.” He goes on to appreciate Even a bit too intently for it to be friendly.

 

“Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve done this.” says Even finally picking his fork up to start on his breakfast. “Isak, um, I was wondering.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

_Why was he stuttering?_

 

“Do you – do you have any plans for this weekend? I mean, is there somewhere you need to be?” asks Even looking as if Isak’s answer weighed so much that the wrong response might as well bring him to tears. _Why are you so nervous?_

 

“Why are you stuttering, dude?” he inquires curiously “I’m free, didn’t we say that we’d save Saturdays for staying in?”

 

That brought a little shy and tentative smile to Even’s lips, the tension finally seeming to be wearing off. “Yeah, yeah, we did. Well, since you’re free, we’re going on a trip.” says Even in the most confident attitude he had had all morning. “Only if you’re up for it, of course.”

 

“A trip? We’ve never been on a trip. I mean, like, just us.” Says Isak flushing when he realized how much he resembled a teenage girl with a crush.

 

“Exactly. I want us to go somewhere together. I have it all planned so you won’t have to worry about anything. You’ll like it, I promise.” rambled Even.

 

“Guess we’re going on a trip, then. When are we leaving?” asked Isak gorging on what was left of his breakfast.

 

“Half an hour. Oh, and pack a change of clothes.” said Even paying no mind to Isak’s flushed face.

 

*

 

One hour later they were securely seated in the almost barren train carriage. Even still hadn’t told Isak where they were going prompting Isak to try and pry that information from him, peek at the tickets, or on the small screens displaying the details about the ride but Even’s stubbornness simply would not budge.

 

They were sat across from each other both having picked the window seat. They both sat with their right leg tucked beneath them and with the elbow against the window.

 

It astounded Isak how alike they were while at the same time being so unabashedly distinct. Even was the ever creative, Isak was pragmatic. Even was poetic about his feelings, while Isak simply _wasn’t_ about his feelings, always considering them with more or less reluctance. Even reveled in anything artistic, while Isak found a safe haven in science. Even chose to take up a Film Studies programme, while Isak has known for all his life that he would be studying Natural Sciences with intensive study of Physics. They were coming from two different worlds and yet.

 

They worked together hand in glove evening out the behavioral differences between them until they were barely perceptible. So whenever they were together in public everyone around them wanted to emphasize how incredibly well they fit together, but that left Isak feeling devoid of happiness and fulfillment. Because to Isak’s mind at least _to actually fit well together_ meant a completely different thing. He dreamt of long fingers carding through his unruly hair, gentle touches caressing his features, a secure confident hand around his waist and a kind infatuated stare boring holes into his eyes. Such statements ruined every sort of composure he had mustered to gather and made him sappy and drunk on the tiniest touch Even spared him.

 

And that was _not_ healthy.

It fascinated Isak that other people saw the same glimmer of hope he himself had seen in the development of their relationship. Once again his mind was drifting beyond all reason perpetuating the infectious idea of a possible love with Even, which was simply laughable.

 

 

On his left, the mountainous pier was unfolding with every mile that passed. It felt surreal that he got to see that, to witness the transition from fall to winter as they were approaching the Northern region more and more. The peaks and hills were painted beautifully with drops and stains of white paint scattered in layers all over the trees. That was a sight to behold, worth of Even’s movies and scrutiny. It looked ethereal. And what else could have caught Even’s attention than a corner of light ripped from paradise?

 

 

But shifting his gaze from the mesmerizing sight he caught Even staring at him with the same intent attention from that morning almost analyzing and scrutinizing every change and movement in his features. And Isak couldn’t for the life of him grasp what was hidden behind that glassy examining look.

 

It was a recurrent theme with Isak and Even. The latter did something. Isak then struggled to understand it while Even took no pity in Isak’s astonishment and kept looking, kept staring, and kept making Isak flush with every minute that passed. And whenever Isak appeared to be getting close to something at least fairly true or comprehensible Even briskly backed off, he stayed in his room and barely exchanged any smiles with him leaving Isak a mayhem of confusion and with a disconcerting feeling of nakedness low in his gut.

 

“You really aren’t going to tell me where we are going?” Isak eventually broke the deafening silence between them quirking an eyebrow. (Habit he undoubtedly picked up from Even)

 

“No” answers Even in a flat tone “and why would you want to know anyway? It would ruin the surprise that, _might I add_ , I so carefully planned for you.”

 

“Ugh. Such a drama queen. I swear it was you who should have moved in with Eskild.”

 

“Nah. You’re okay.”

 

“I’m okay? I’m the fucking best! I’m the master of being roommates.” says Isak tipping his head backwards as to appear more confident and slightly raise his voice making the old lady slumping in the next seat mumble in her sleep.

 

“Yeah, noted. Well, master of being roommates, you should tell me more about those theories. Cause I, yeah, I think I found a link between astronomy and mythology but I need your I’m-so-good-at-science opinion.”

 

“I am good at science, fyi. Now, tell me.” says Isak glowing in utter amazement at both Even’s validation and his interest in pursuing a fortnight old conversation.

 

“Okay.” he started “I know this isn’t as scientifically accurate as you’re fancy theories but I think what you’ve been saying has already been more or less defined in Greek mythology, only way easier to grasp for obvious reasons. So, basically, what the Greeks have been saying is that in the very beginning the only thing that existed was _The Chaos_ , a pitch black void where nothing could be distinguished, a space of freefall, which had no foreseeable end or border. But then, out of this unfathomable chaos, Gaia is born. It’s something no one can really describe, but it can be associated with matter, so it’s everywhere and it is clear, understandable and stable, in a way – she’s the ancestral mother of the world. So _Gaia_ is in complete opposition with _Chaos_. These two components of the universe lack, however, a spark, the ignition to start creating. Here, _Eros_ enters the scene. It is the primary love, without which nothing can be born. Consequently, after the emergence of _Eros_ , Gaia gives birth to Uranus, which is the sky, the starry sky which expands all over Gaia and creates sort of a veil which covers her completely. And here’s where you’ll start noticing the resembling parts. Uranus and Gaia collide and give birth to the world: to the oceans, the seas, the forests, the mountains and also to the notion of time. So everything that Galileo Galilei or any other contemporary of his has really already been stated by ancient philosophers. I personally think these Renaissance astronomers simply added the technology and development of the time to the already known myths and legends of the Ancient Greece, but without crediting it. Did I make any sense?”

 

Isak was flabbergasted.

 

Never had someone in Isak’s life got so involved in the subjects he was interested in, seeing that what he was passionate about revolved around incomprehensible theories which always kept to science. And now, a random guy he met one day at school with a tumultuous life story and a scattered mind about him decided to share a piece of his mind with Isak.

 

Even wants to check facts, exchange opinions, explain unrealistic theories to him and even fight defending them. Even values what Isak was talking about when he was too tired to register he was being annoying and wanted to get to know that yapping and free Isak, no less. So it was only natural that Isak found it astounding to have someone so unabashedly passionate and kind in his immediate proximity with whom he got to discuss whatever was on his mind. _Yet another thing worth loving about Even. Great._

”Wow. And here I thought I was the nerd.” was the only thing Isak ended up saying. Even shoved him trying to play hurt but failing when an unmistakable typical for Even grin was tugging at his lips.

 

“Oh, and when I thought you’d finally grown out of your _I’m-a-fuckboy-and-I-only-like-sports-and-playing-Fifa_ phase. Disappointing, really, I should probably go chat with the nice lady over there. She looks like she’d know how to entertain a deep conversation _for grown-ups_ , don’t you think?” smirks Even knowing exactly what he was doing to Isak.

 

“What? I’m the best at entertaining conversations, I’ll have you know. In fact, no one can entertain conversations better than me. I’m the best shot you’ve got, honestly. If you’re walking away now, you’re throwing away your only chance to chat with _the_ expert.”

 

Even and Isak himself couldn’t help snorting at such a predictable response. “Entertain me, then.”

 

_Is there anything you say that does not turn me to a shy stuttering mess?_

Apparently not.

 

“Of course, well, yeah so. The similarities between the two eras are very obvious for virtually anybody who knows a bit of history, but that doesn’t mean the thinkers of each time are less worthy of recognition. I mean if we take a look at human nature, it is common to think there is something out there larger than life, right? The stories of their legendary pursuits put these warriors on a level above that of the mere common man in order to justify this higher dimension of life. We can’t help but feel kind of an insignificant speck floating through space when we look at the magnamity of the sky. So I can’t say I’m surprised that that civilization graced the names of the stars and galaxies with those of the heroes they most appreciated and looked up to. That’s why I hate seeing all these know-it-alls who claim that the Greeks or the Romans knew jackshit about how things work when they literally just defined stuff in their own terms, you know?”

 

By the end of this Isak was fuming because some ancient civilizations were reduced to nothing? He didn’t seem to find any logic to what he had said even after he had calmed down. Isak was simply extremely sensitive to giving credit to the right people who helped science make miraculous advances. No doubt whether he was a nerd or not now.

 

“Woah. Take a breath.” says Even stretching out his arm to try and tether Isak. “But you’re totally right. The Greek philosophers were basically the fore parents of astronomy as we know it.”

 

After he had regained his composure, he found it in himself to offer Even his adequately nerdy retort.

 

“Hm. Now I wouldn’t go that far. I mean, sure, they defined some constellations and astronomical phenomena which still bear the same Greek names but it wasn’t until Galileo Galilei cleared everything and said that constellations are a mere ensemble of stars and that galaxies are the real thing where all the solar systems are housed, that we got closer to what is indeed scientifically accurate. Or, you know the goddess of the Moon, Selene, was thought by the Greek to be the sister of Helios, god of the Sun. See, because we know that Copernicus discovered the heliocentric theory, we can really acknowledge the resemblance between the Greek myth and the actual scientific facts. Because, in a way, the moon and the sun are siblings, both being born in the same galaxy from the same atoms of the Big Bang, inhabiting the same universal space. You’re right, the Greeks did do something for modern astronomy but we would be finding ourselves in a tortuous confusion hadn’t modern scientists explained and clarified what our universe is made of. That’s why I think it’s a barely fair statement to say that Greek mythology goes hand in hand with astronomy because, despite being born out of the same natural curiosity of man to discover the world, they stem from different planes of history. You need to have reached a complex and developed moment in time in order to be able to really say that you know what is out there. Copernicus, Galilei and Kepler were mere lunatic explorers who were willing to spice their lives up by researching the unknown, but without them, we’d still probably believe we are alone in the universe.”

 

What followed was undisturbed silence.

 

Silence because of the lack of something better to add or say, silence because an appropriate answer required time, silence because the numerous ideas where flowing at much too rapid speed to be broken down into comprehensible words, silence due to pure astonishment.

 

“You’re really passionate about this, aren’t you?” asked Even no hint of teasing or mockery in his voice.

 

“I am.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’m not sure. I simply know science is the only certainty I have at times. The only symmetry and exactness I can rely on.”

 

“That’s nice. Having something always staying true and in control around you. My brain is too scattered to have that. Or, the things that keep me in touch with the real world are in themselves too interpretable and fickle to be able to call them my tether.”

 

A thud.

Branches and twigs were covering the whole expanse of the window. They were entering the forest where the rays of sun were barely noticeable as the dark green of the trees was crowding in on the car.

 

Even shifted his gaze.

He was looking out on the window seemingly following the curbs and bends of the trees, but he looked absent. It was a first for Isak to see Even very little present in the moment when all Even has been radiating since he had met him was energy and engagement with everything around him.

 

There was just so much reflecting in Even’s icy blue eyes that Isak couldn’t even begin to try and decipher. The intricate stripes of his pupils blending in with each other told each a story on their own.

 

And all Even had to do to create such scenery was let his brain be _scattered._

 

The thuds stopped.

 

The sun shone through the leaves and between branches.

 

Even was still staring at the metal rail the train was leaving behind.

 

 

*

 

 

The train came to an abrupt halt an hour later finally dissipating the heavily contemplative mood in the carriage. The world Even was currently visiting had to be forcibly pulled away from him as he absent-mindedly motioned for Isak to stand up and grab his bag. They ran down the small train hallway jumping briskly over the three steps and landing on the platform with their belongings flying behind them.

 

“Woah! That was tight, why didn’t you tell me earlier that this was our stop?” said Isak panting realizing that was probably not the right thing to point out in that very moment.

 

“All this smart talk got me distracted.” says Even as he walks towards a dark blue sign which had _Troms_ _ø_ written in yellow shiny faded letters with a wide grin plastered on his face. And Isak. He thought he’d never come back up here with a makeshift of a good disposition. _Huh. Circumstances._

 

“Tromsø? Is this our grand destination?” Isak was confused, still finding it hard to understand what is so _damn fascinating_ about this minuscule town.

 

“Yeah? Come on, don’t be so skeptical. We’re exploring, Isak! Can’t you feel the adrenaline seeping in through your veins?” Even had somehow regained his excitement and was glowing with the prospect of showing Isak around. Always so unpredictable.

 

“You can save your cathartic lines for your scripts, don’t you think?” sassed Isak but, nonetheless, caught up to Even’s freakishly big strides.

 

Even turned around facing Isak with a suspiciously happy smile gracing his features. Why Isak’s cynical demeanor hadn’t pushed Even away yet and rather enticed him to annoy him with his cheerfulness still marveled Isak.

 

“Oh? You didn’t know? This is exactly what this is. I’m just testing this script I wrote for my Creative Writing class. Oh – you, you thought I randomly took you on a trip? Awkward.” Even continued to walk backwards looking way too smug for Isak’s liking.

 

“Asshole.” muttered Isak under his breath. “And why do you always have to walk like that?”

 

 

*

 

“Isak, no, come on, stay right here. This is the best spot to get a perfect contre-jour, if you’ll just stay right here and hold your arms like this.” said Even gesticulating erratically with his arms flying all over the place.

 

“No, Even!” whined Isak “Can’t you just put your backpack there? Why do I need to model for you?”

 

*

 

If Isak were to be honest, the sun reflecting in the windows of the Arctic Cathedral did truly bathe the narrow street they were bickering on quite beautifully in a warm soothing light. The arrows of the edifice resembled tiny projections of the mountains which were hovering over the whole of Tromsø looking like never-ending layers of pie tree woods were threatening to collapse right in front Isak’s feet. A quick 360° glance at the scenery around him was enough to take him way back on the memory lane and relive a lifetime only by staring at the thoroughly carved trunk of the fir tree behind the cathedral.

 

In the blink of an eye he was back at the age of 8 when he was racing with the other children around the railing of the cathedral chasing the autumn leaves the janitor had carefully raked in the corner of the yard, getting muddy up to his knees because he was constantly slipping on the ground right in front of the steps of the church where a puddle had been formed god knows how many days prior. But the attraction of the site was undoubtedly the huge tall pine tree behind the cathedral where Isak used to show off his height and flexibility by climbing it as high as possible, not even once considering that a few 7 year olds will find it rather difficult to help him get down.

 

He had had such a beautiful childhood with everything he ever wanted at his feet, a small community, friends who looked up to him for passion for nature and a family. A family who joined all the local fairs and community events and brought freshly baked pies and hot chocolate to everything the church put together.

 

They were quite _the_ family in Tromsø back when he was child, the picture-perfect kind of family who simply radiated happiness and warmth whenever they would go out together. That is, until his father took up a part-time job down in Oslo and spent the little time he had for his family joining his old friends in sketchy pubs drinking his exhaustion away. His mother was obviously too overwhelmed to deal and take proper care of an eight year old, a fairly irresponsible husband and to manage with a teaching job _and_ a still not too clearly defined mental illness on her back. It was only expected that, in order to save the illusion of the family they used to have, they were to move house to the city.

 

Once packed with only a suitcase of what truly mattered to a little kid they were headed 1079 miles South in a city where he barely knew anybody, which had inhabitants who spoke like they were the superior species and behaved with no regard to what Isak knew as social norms back home. So for the past 11 years Isak has been a capital boy who adapted to the city life with no problem whatsoever finally being able to be picky and snippy because _life in the city is hectic, that’s just the way it is, Isak, grow up._ He hadn’t returned to his hometown ever since, but he wouldn’t tell Even that.

 

For now, at least, he’d like to rather keep the  wide excited grin glued to Even’s features who looked genuinely happy to show Isak around, apparently deeming him as the right focus for his photos.

 

 

*

 

 

“Fishing for compliments, are we?” said Even. “Come on, princess, you look dashing.”

 

 

“Ugh” he groaned. “You literally sound like one of my aunts. This whole age difference thing is starting to really show. Oh, and what do you have there - is that white hair in your eyebrows?”

 

 

The camera clicked and Even was smiling smugly behind it because he managed to capture the subject in his utmost raw form – sassy and teasing with his left eyebrow quirked upwards and a smirk which crooked his features in a both strange and endearing way. The realization of what Even had done then dawned on Isak’s face struggling profusely to look somewhat offended but only succeeding in looking amazed and bashful.

 

 

“Perfect. We should head off to the Airbnb now because I’m not entirely sure that the nice lady I talked to would like to know we arrived so late because you were a bratty 5 year old.” said Even anticipating Isak’s imminent scoff.

 

*

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Holcene**

Bon Iver

 

_“And at once I knew I was not magnificent_  
Strayed above the highway aisle  
Jagged vacance, thick with ice  
And I could see for miles, miles, miles”

* * *

 

 

 

Between two secluded hills with a bird’s eye view of the tiny local market, in a 2 storey building Isak and Even were to spend the first and only night of their very much spontaneous trip.

 

When he entered the flat with Even in tow he was met with a neatly made bed with a blue striped duvet which reminded him awfully much of the one he had back at home. By the window, on a small ancient-looking wooden table three dandelions were placed in a bright yellow vase reflecting the little ray of sunshine that was streaming through the window pane. The whole ensemble looked cozy.

 

As if a family at the beginning of their journey were giving all they had to make the place they called home a place of safety and tenderness.

 

Not allowing himself to get too wrapped up in that sort of train of thought he glanced over his shoulder to look at Even who was meticulously getting his things out of his backpack and arranging them in an uneven pile on the left side of the bed. It was such an Even thing to do. Making a place his own, homey and lively while also having no sense of tidiness whatsoever.

 

It felt strange that Isak would stop anything he was doing in that moment to just look at Even, notice his facial expressions when he was not guarded by public image and just watch him go about his day with an easiness which carried both his lightheartedness and the sorrow weighing behind his eyelids.

 

And the real problem was laying in the fact that these examinations of his held a deeper meaning that oftentimes made Isak question how long he had been dealing with these feelings and if they are indeed as innocent as he tells himself they are.

 

There would be no problem if he were to admire Even’s personality traits which clearly proved what a supportive and kind friend he is or the undeniably artistic aura he always bore with him.

 

But that was not the case now, was it?

 

Isak got transfixed multiple times a day from multiple different angles under multiple inappropriate circmstances staring dumbly into Even’s eyes trying to comprehend their intensity.

 

Or, in his mind, he’d follow the lines and planes of his body caressing the soft skin which was covering him in an unmistakably smooth layer. Or, he would examine every freckle on his back whenever Even would walk around the apartment wearing only his light gray sweats, connecting them until they looked like tiny constellations on a pale pink display. Isak then reckoned these realizations weren’t quite the regular go-to friendly thoughts one would develop for his friend. Even the mere fact that he was scrutinizing the entitlement he has to his own feelings is a big red flaming warning for Isak that he is utterly _fucked_.

 

And Even running his long slender fingers through his now unruly hair while looking searchingly around the room for God knows what isn’t quite helping the matter at hand.

 

 

*

 

After a few treacherous hours of Isak futilely trying not to drool on the floor and picture way too detailed contexts in is head, Even took the reins and led them to their allegedly fun destination. Even was giddy on his feet while he was leaning against the pole on the tram, so Isak couldn’t help be suspicious, giddy and eager to find out what Even had planned for them. It goes without saying that the mere fact that Even had taken the time to plan something suitable for both of their tastes and that he was, consequently, incredibly excited turned Isak into a puddle of mush.

 

_He really needed to get a grip_.

 

The ride passed with them gazing shyly at each other. And, maybe, for some on-lookers they looked like two boyfriends who had decided to go on a spontaneous trip to the mountains, while for the others, they looked like two friends with an affinity for adventure, one of them being ever the leader and the life of the party, while the other was acting simply silly for his very excitable friend.

 

When they got off the tram together with large groups of tourists and school children being dragged there by their teachers, Isak and Even were stood before a large but quite modest in architecture building. It resembled an Engineering Department of an old university, with blue doors, poorly maintained staircases and a very in your face brownish plate with green letters which read: Science Center of Northern Norway.

 

 

Beside him Even was smiling one of his wide blinding grins that spread all over his face until it looked painful to watch.

 

“You brought me to the science museum?” Isak asks excitement crystal clear in his voice. Being unpredictable is clearly not one of his perks.

 

“I did. Come on, there’s a show starting in five minutes that I want us to see.” Says Even striding away with his backpack hanging low on his shoulders.

 

_Why did he even bring his backpack?_

 

Entering the old-looking building, they were faced with a long hallway with glass walls on both sides which led to a large and obscure projection room. There, tiny planets, constellations and suns were scattered on the expanse of the wide rounded ceiling. Around the room people were roaming trying to find their seats somewhere in the back thinking that maybe they would find a good spot from which to watch the show unaware that the best viewing point was right in the middle of the room.

 

_Physics, duh._

 

 

As Isak was admiring the architecture of the planetarium, Even was calmly pulling out of his now purposeful backpack a thick knitted blanket which he meticulously lay on the floor.

 

“What are you doing?” inquires Isak finally coming back to reality.

 

“This is the best spot to watch the show, Mr. Physics. Now come lay down.”

 

Flopping down by Even’s side Isak can’t seem to be able to contain the giddy feeling playing around low in his stomach and the shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And he knows this shouldn’t be making him as happy as it does, but when Even is laying with his long lanky legs sprawled in front of him looking expectantly up at him with those icy blue eyes it’s quite a task for Isak to think this, _whatever this was,_ is purely platonic.

 

So he was going to indulge in whatever his heart was struggling to picture and he would at least for once enjoy this kind of touch-starved intimacy he had with Even.

 

“This one is supposed to be about Orion’s Belt and different types of galaxies. Whatever those are.” whispers Even tilting his head backwards to speak directly into his ear, unknowingly sending shivers down his spine.

 

And as Isak looks upwards towards where the projection is supposed to be, the Belt of Orion is displayed in front of him. The three bright stars looking back down at him with the intensity and luminosity he’s only seen in the documentaries they showed them at uni. It’s stupid – now that he thinks about it. He has been living in Norway for as long as he can remember - Norway - which is so close to the Polar Circle that the astronomical phenomena are so easy to observe virtually all around the year.  

 

“Did you know this recording was taken not far from here? About 3 weeks ago when whatever scientific conditions were met that the constellation looks so bright and vivid.” says Even wanting to clarify.

 

“If we had come here in January, we would have most certainly been able to see it from the outside simply by looking up at the sky. The Northern Winter is the best time to observe these constellations, you know. Because now, look, we can see Alnitak, there, the one which looks really blue. It’s actually the brightest star in the night sky. And then, there, Alnilam, is supposed to be even more luminous than the Sun itself. Oh, and Mintaka, that’s the easiest star to spot in the Northern Hemisphere. I think Orion’s Belt is my favorite asterism, you know. It’s also called the Three Kings. I really like that about it, because, you know, most asterisms have a star that overshadows the others, whereas here they’re all kind of equal because they all have their special particularities that make them all as important as the other.”

 

He could feel Even’s stare boring into the side of his face. He didn’t have the courage to turn his face and look him in the eye, though. Especially after he had talked his ear off about a _goddamn_ asterism. And he isn’t going to lie, the projection looked way to vivid and mesmerizing to miss even one second of looking at it. At some point he was wondering whether Even was going to utter a word during the whole show or not but he figured he wouldn’t mind explaining every tiny movement in excruciating detail.

 

“The next projection is going to be about galaxies. Explain it to me, will you?” says Even shifting almost unnoticeably closer to Isak’s side.

 

With a curt nod Isak watches as the projection shifts from the right asterism to the good old Milky Way, which displays in a uniform spiral shape moving every once in a while with clusters and clusters of stars and dust clouds covering its outline. The colors are so bright and true to the actual thing that they can only watch dumbfounded how the shades range from the brightest purple to the darkest pitch black ever seen.

 

“This is a spiral galaxy. They are the most widespread and we already know about our Milky Way and the really close-by Andromeda Galaxy. These types of galaxies have a lot of shit in them. They have large rotating disks of stars and nebulae, dark matter, black holes and obviously, planets. What’s so interesting about them is that they can expand to no limit. They can even eat other smaller galaxies. But I think that’s true for most galaxies so even our galaxy could be eaten by a bigger one at some point in time.”

 

“And aren’t we going to be in danger if we get sucked in by another larger galaxy?” asks Even his words dripping with curiosity.

 

“We are. But luckily astronomy works with billions of light years so we’re quite safe. But, yes, a galaxy can be destroyed in two ways. One, by merging and creating a huge galactic cluster and two, by actual galactic battles. This is a bit more violent, because the bigger and more powerful galaxy literally rips the smaller galaxy apart and takes the residue into its surface. This is all due to gravity. As a galaxy gets bigger its gravitational force also grows and, therefore, is more impactful and stronger than the other galaxies surrounding it.”

 

“What about this flat one?” says Even pointing to another galaxy.

 

“It’s not _flat,_ Even. It’s elliptical. These are my favorites. This is how a galaxy should look like after it merges or is eaten by another galaxy. That’s why it looks so disorganized in comparison to the spiral one. Elliptical galaxies are the updated version of a spiral galaxy and are way, way bigger than any spiral galaxy. What’s interesting, however, is that these galaxies are actually more three-dimensional than the spiral ones, even though, as you said, they look flat. Elliptical galaxies have layers over layers of stars and stellar clusters. They are so complex, Even, I can’t even tell you the minimum you need to know about them.”

 

By the end of his short speech Isak was breathless with excitement.

 

“Well, come on, you’ll tell me the bare minimum on our way back.”

 

_What._

 

“Do we have to leave already?”

 

“I’m afraid so.”

 

Even extends his hand to help Isak up as he looked too baffled to make his limbs and brain coordinate.

 

*

 

“Okay, so do you really want to hear about elliptical galaxies or were you just indulging me?”

 

“Of course! But I have a question first. How do scientists know how these galaxies evolved? I mean it should take millions of years for a galaxy to be developed and how can they track back every emergence, shift or change in space?”

 

“They basically sequence several images of galactic collisions and then they can observe the exact collision of two spiral galaxies. This merging takes billions of years to be completed, too, so chances are there were at least some scientists who witnessed this phenomenon with their own eyes. But we also have to thank Hubble for that.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“What?”

 

“I haven’t realized how similar our subjects are until now. There’s also cinematic sequencing, you know. It helps the viewer get more detailed visuals and understand the story better. And that’s what scientists do, too. They want to know the story of the galaxy so they sequence it.”

 

“Maybe you should teach me how to sequence so when I’m rich enough to buy a good telescope I can observe the merging of galaxies.”

 

“I will.”

 

And in that moment Isak could have sworn on the closest thing to his heart that he saw a glimmer of something else in Even’s eyes. It looked as if something collided in the blue of Even’s eyes, his pupils dilating slightly and his eyelids widening a bit as if to be able to fit the shift in Even’s gaze. He didn’t know why Even spent so much time looking at him, scrutinizing him, but it was still transfixing every time.

The way he could make the clocks freeze for just a second in time and let himself be observed without shying way, without thinking he is embarrassing himself or that he is a circus animal.

 

Even was simply looking at him. And for that fraction of a second, Isak felt as if Even saw him as he was, too. But only for a second.

 

 

*

 

 

The trip back to Oslo was substantially more silent. But the glances Isak and Even exchanged on the way back home were speaking loud enough as they were. It was like something shifted. For Isak, at least. Maybe it was Even doing something unprompted specifically for Isak. Taking him to  his hometown, to all his childhood trauma and giving it a different meaning. Even though he might have not known how cathartic the trip to Tromsø was for Isak, Even gave it a whole other direction. Now Isak had good, heart-warming memories to tie to that town.

 

For the two of them, this spontaneous trip was like they stepped into another realm, where they could be themselves without shaking with the fear of looking too close, too friendly, too attached to each other. It was as if they created their own tiny bubble in which Isak would tell Even about the universe and Even would tell him about the sensitivity of everything that he had been saying. It was unreal, secluded, private, and their own.

 

That’s why he was afraid of arriving back home. He was afraid everything they built in Tromsø would fade away and slowly shatter once they would enter their tiny apartment. Conversations, soft touches and hesitant glances long forgotten, they would go back to being simply friendly to each other.

 

It was relieving to see that that was not the case when they got off the train and went for a BSH Kebab downtown and Even still asked him questions fueled by his unwavering curiosity and checked probably for the fiftieth time to see whether or not Isak liked their little adventure. Isak concluded Even was just kind. That’s who he is kind and clever and caring. As simple as that.

 

It was a good change. Under these circumstances, Isak could maybe muster the courage to come forward about the tumult churning in his stomach every time Even opened his eyes.

 

 

*

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Let Me Down**

 

Jorja Smith

 

" _But I've got you to let me down_  
I've got you to let me down  
Only you can understand why  
I've got you to let me down"

 

* * *

 

 

 

It definitely _was._

 

Because later that week when Even asked Isak to come to his building and help him with the shots he took on their trip, Isak’s whole plan and newfound bravery wavered and fell shattering in millions of pieces on the floor.

 

On entering the developing room Isak was faced with Even showing the photos they took together to a brown-haired boy, shorter than him but confident in the way he carried himself. _Everything Isak was not._ And Even: Even had the widest grin plastered on his face. It was blinding. He had never seen Even smile so wide around to him. The way the boy had a strong arm flung over Even’s shoulder and the way his whole body was turned towards Even, offering him his undivided attention made Isak figure enough.

 

That was supposed to be him. Isak was supposed to be laughing and admiring and remembering the sweet tender memories of their trip.

 

But it wasn’t him.

 

 

 

It was never him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks once again for making it this far and i hope you enjoyed this chapter! please do give me feedback!!! 
> 
> if you wanna chat hmu on twitter @leiavltrsn or on tumblr @forest-es
> 
> love you
> 
> Yours truly,
> 
> Leia


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